Casey vs the Intersect
by am138
Summary: A "What if?" fan fic. What if, on that fateful night in 2007, it had been Casey, not Chuck, who recieved the Intersect? A tale of much grunting, scotch whisky and of course, the Crown Vic.
1. How to Kill Bryce Larkin

**_A/N: _**_Hey everyone! This is my first fan-fic published on this site, and it takes the form of a "What if?" scenario. What if, on the night of the Pilot episode of _Chuck_ in 2007, Casey had been the one to download the Intersect? This is (will be) a multi chapter fan fic exploring this AU. Enjoy!_

_**DISCLAIMER: **I am in no way affiliated with NBC's _Chuck _or anything else featured in this chapter - I wrote it purely for entertainment purposes and am not profiting from it, etc._

* * *

**Chapter One: How to Kill Bryce Larkin**

**2007**

**Top Secret Government Compound**

**7:34 pm**

NSA Major John Casey rounded the corner, his black silk tie billowing slightly with every step. His strides were confident, perhaps too much so, and in his hand he held a Glock 17 with a firm and experienced grip. His face remained emotionless as he turned the next corner, into a hallway which was flooded with cold light from the fluorescent tubes hanging above. His finger twitched – he longed to pull the trigger, but in his mind he knew it wouldn't be long before he did. Approaching a door which was set into the right-hand wall, he pulled the slide back and forth on the pistol, which responded with a satisfying click. Through brute force alone, he smashed the door open with his foot, and it swung back barely on its hinges. This room was much bigger than the maze of corridors he had previously navigated – _massive_, in fact. The walls, ceiling and floor were coated in every shade of white, and it was empty save for the computer in the centre of the room.

Oh, and Bryce Larkin. Bloodied and exhausted, the CIA agent turned traitor tapped furiously at the keyboard which controlled the computer, a brutal concoction of sweat and blood cascading down his face.

"It's too late, Bryce." Casey called.

"It's never too late." Bryce responded, his eyes glued to the screen.

Casey grunted, and lifted up the Glock, the iron sight aimed securely at Bryce's chest. With one flick of his finger, the room exploded with sound, and the bullet whizzed through the air and straight into Bryce's stomach. He collapsed in agony, crying out desperately, and Casey, cool and collected as ever, marched over to his buckled figure. This time when he lifted the gun, he aimed for the head, and was just about to touch the trigger when he saw Bryce lift his arm and point at the screen.

Casey grunted curiously, and looked up at the computer. His eyes filled with rage: _Power surge in 20 seconds._ Bryce was going to destroy the computer, it seemed. With a fair amount of certainty, Casey pulled the trigger, ending Bryce's life in a gory mess on the floor. Blood pooled around the corpse, seeping into the grooves in the tiles and spreading out slowly. Casey, quick thinking, smashed the keyboard with rage.

The screen flickered, then changed, now reading: _Intersect Uploading. _Before Casey could react, the room was ablaze with colour. Every tile covering the floor, ceiling and walls was a screen, and they filled with pictures and names like a visual encyclopaedia. Mesmerised, Casey watched intently, his mind racing. He had been given orders to kill Bryce, but nothing had been said about the computer actually starting up.

The images intensified, the colours becoming more vibrant, before each screen turned black in turn, before black peppered the walls and floor, and finally the upload was complete. The room turned white again, and Casey stumbled, using the computer bench for support. His head ached badly, so much so that his vision went in and out of focus, with coloured spots appearing and disappearing in some sort of random pattern. The power surge took effect, and the room was momentarily riddled with arcs of electricity as the circuits were fried.

Shaking his head feverishly, Casey managed to control himself and grunted, before holstering his pistol and walking away from Bryce's fresh carcass, which still oozed vivid red blood. Stepping out of the room and back into the corridor, Casey slammed the door and headed for the exit.

* * *

_Chug chug. Chug chug. _The 1985 Ford Crown Victoria growled into life, the 4.6-litre V8 engine idled with a grumble resembling a caged bear. Casey put it into gear and twitched the accelerator, which the car responded to with a meaty roar.

Speeding away with a cloud of smoke from the tires and a scream from the engine, Casey computed what had just happened. He'd definitely done something – he felt strange, and not in the usual way. He knew that. He hadn't touched the whiskey at all. His head still throbbed uncontrollably, but at least his vision was in order once more.

Shaken from his thoughts by his mobile which vibrated violently, he cruised down the Washington DC streets with ease. Picking up the phone and accepting the call, he put it to his ear.

"General?" he inquired.

"_Major Casey. Good work dispatching the target."_

"No problem at all, General. The man was practically begging for a bullet in his skull."

"_Yes, well, good work."_

Casey grunted approvingly to himself, and rounded another corner.

"There is one thing though." he acknowledged.

"_Oh? What is that?"_

"The computer. It started up. I saw images...lots of them."

The phone remained silent for a few seconds.

"General?" Casey repeated.

"_Major Casey, get back to the compound at once."_

Before Casey had time to respond, the General hung up, the oh-so-familiar dial tone alerting him to this turn of events. His next grunt signified his intrigue – the General was keeping something from him. Gripping the wheel steadily with one hand and with the other on the handbrake, Casey swung the Crown Vic round expertly, the rear end lashing out in retaliation.

Within a matter of seconds, he was heading in the other direction, the throaty growl of the Crown Vic bellowing through the DC streets.

* * *

Casey pulled up outside the CIA compound, pulling up sharply on the handbrake. Swinging the door open, he stepped outside to be greeted by a flustered-looking General Beckman.

"Major Casey." she asserted, her voice dry as ice.

"General..." Casey replied, saluting briefly.

"At ease, Casey," Beckman replied, "I have some...news."

Another grunt of intrigue.

"...The Intersect. The computer which you accidentally started up before the power surge...it's inside of you now." she replied, clearly harrowed.

Casey raised one eyebrow: "And what does that mean, exactly?"

"When you initialised the Intersect," Beckman continued, "the entire system was downloaded into your brain."

"Go on..." Casey replied.

The General paled slightly, then continued: "The Intersect was a joint CIA/NSA initiative set up by the government after 9/11. We were told to play nice, to share our intel with each other. Every scrap of intelligence we had went into that computer, and it was the same with the CIA. Your brain now contains every secret either agency has. You _are_ the Intersect."

Casey blinked, the gravity of the situation clearly not setting in just yet.

"What does that mean? How will it affect me?"

Beckman sighed, and held up an image of a well-built African-American man.

Casey's vision became fixated on it, and his brain was fed an explosion of information, his pulse surging. Images flashed before him – a strike fighter; a birth certificate; several images of the man in question, and then the strike fighter again.

"Adam Knight, formerly a US Army Ranger. DOB: 10th March 1972, currently under investigation for drugs and people trafficking." Casey blurted out.

His eyes widened – _what had just happened?_

The General hardly seemed surprised.

"That was the Intersect 'flashing' on the image. It's how the Intersect was designed to work. Every time you come across a piece of information contained within the Intersect, you 'flash' on it and everything about it is revealed to you. Be that information a picture, a voice, a line of text...anything."

Casey's mind processed this information along with the countless other images, aliases, secrets and concepts he imagined it was already dealing with.

"What does this mean for me, General?" he inquired.

"Though your action was reckless, we acknowledge you had no intention of downloading the Intersect yourself. You will return to your post as normal, and we will contact you soon about our plans for the future."

Casey grunted in confirmation, before saluting once more and heading back towards the Crown Vic.

* * *

**_A/N: _**_Expect a new chapter in the next few days! Hope you enjoyed it! :)_

_AM138_


	2. Enter Agent Walker

_**A/N: **A massive thank you to everyone who reviewed and provided C&C on my first chapter - it is all appreciated and it will help me grow as an author. I also appreciated the storyline ideas - I would be really grateful if anyone had any ideas of things they would like to see develop in the story, because I want you all to feel that you are as much a part of this fan-fic as I am! Anyway, here is chapter 2 for you all to enjoy. I've proof read it several times and streamlined it to my liking, so please, enjoy :-)_

_**DISCLAIMER: **I am in no way affiliated with NBC's _Chuck _or anything else featured in this fan-fic. All I did was write the story for fun, honest..._

* * *

**Chapter Two: Enter Agent Walker**

**2 Weeks Later**

**Grand Plaza Apartments**

**Washington D.C.**

**8:56 pm**

_Ping!_

Casey looked up from his seat momentarily at the microwave, which sat facing him on the counter. The small monitor on the corner of the machine flickered excitedly – _Chow time, _Casey thought, and he folded the newspaper he was reading neatly in half, placing it on the armrest, before standing up and walking over to the kitchenette.

The NSA had kept him holed up in this apartment for almost half a year now, sending him on various assignments, but it was the closest place to home he could think of. It was more than the bare essentials he'd been used to; the living room sported a large cream sofa and matching armchair and a large flat screen television stood proudly in the corner. On the wall he had mounted various rifles and machine guns of historical significance, but for the most part the apartment was fairly regular.

Wrenching open the microwave, Casey extracted his ready meal (in this instance a rather plastic-looking lasagne) and pulled up a chair to eat at the countertop. The dull scrape of the wooden legs on the carpet was the only thing disturbing absolute silence at this point, which was the way he liked it. It meant he was completely alert, with no ambient noise to distract him from any would-be intruders.

He mounted a military-scale operation on the lasagne, fork attacking the meal at all fronts, his stomach slowly consuming the pasta-based dish's resolve. He looked up briefly just as the flat screen activated, and General Beckman appeared in all her high definition glory.

"Major Casey." Beckman stated.

"General," Casey returned, pushing his meal aside with some haste, "have you come to a decision yet?"

"Regarding your...unique situation?" Beckman asked, continuing only when Casey nodded in approval, "Yes. We have."

Casey grunted in support.

"Peyman Alahi," the General stated, before an image of the man appeared on screen, "an international financier for the opium cartel. He has in his possession an item which the DEA are...fond...of tracking down."

"Forgive me for asking, General," Casey interrupted, "but what does this have to do with the Intersect?"

"Everything, Major Casey. We believe someone with your abilities could be invaluable on this mission. You will assist the DEA agent Carina Miller in—"

"—Hold on a second General – Carina? I've had dealings with her in the past, she can't be trusted."

"We are fully aware of Agent Millers...unorthodox methods, but a field agent with your experience should find her to be nothing you can't handle."

Casey expelled a humoured grunt.

The General cleared her throat in return, before carrying on: "You will assist Carina in acquiring the item from Peyman's Malibu estate."

"What exactly _is_ the item, General?"

"A diamond. A diamond the Drug Enforcement Administration would much rather was in their possession. Make no mistakes Major Casey, we want that diamond _first_. Understood?"

"A diamond, huh? I don't like the idea of going after that diamond alone with Carina."

"That brings me on to my next point. You won't _be_ alone, Casey."

"Hmm?" Casey replied, curious.

Before General Beckman could reply, Casey heard the distinct sound of someone unlatching the front door. The door swung open, and an ominous shadow stepped inside. Casey's blood pumped furiously in his veins, and he reached for the fork which was currently embedded in his lasagne.

With one deft toss, he sent the fork flying at the mystery intruder, whilst simultaneously diving for cover behind the couch. The intruder stepped into the light and caught the fork clean in her hand, a smug look on her face.

The General raised an eyebrow, and generally appeared unimpressed by Casey's culinary assault.

"Agent Walker," she greeted, "just in time."

Casey's mouth distorted into an angry sneer.

"General," Agent Walker replied, "I trust the CIA has cleared everything with you?"

"I've been briefed on everything relevant to this assignment," Beckman replied, before turning her attention back to Casey, "Major Casey, meet Sarah Walker, the CIA's top—_"_

Casey's vision flickered, then burst with information – an intelligence file on one SARAH WALKER; details of her previous missions; archived photos; grainy CCTV footage. The footage showed Sarah assaulting and dispatching a group of guards, before turning around, her eyes piercing the camera. She fired her pistol at it, and the footage ended.

Casey blinked several times, in a vain attempt to stop his fiery headache in its tracks.

"—Sarah Walker, top CIA agent, known alias: Jenny Burton, previous missions in Pakistan, Canada, and most recently Paris. Recruited by the CIA out of high school, pressed into field work at the age of eighteen."

"I see you have...become familiar with Agent Walker, Major." the General deduced.

"Oh," Casey added, remembering the CCTV footage, "and skilled at hand to hand combat."

Sarah walked over, and motioned for a handshake. Casey hesitated for a moment, before grunting slightly and holding out his hand, deciding she posed no imminent threat to him.

"Major Casey," she began, "I have been fully briefed on your new found abilities and I will be assisting you in this operation."

Casey nodded once to confirm. He didn't trust her – she was CIA, after all. Her warm smile was lost on him, although he was impressed at her quick reactions when she was faced with an airborne item of cutlery. But he'd never tell_ her_ that.

"I will allow you both some time to get acquainted," the General finished, "Major," she nodded to Casey, before eyeing up Sarah, "Agent Walker."

* * *

**2 Days Later**

**Richmond Hotel Complex**

**Malibu, California**

**7:12 am**

Casey's eyelids creaked open reluctantly, and he groaned as he sat up. His brain clearly wasn't taking well to the Intersect intrusion, as every inch of his head ached with a fury unmatched by even the most brutal hangover. Within a matter of seconds, however, his soldier mentality kicked into action, and he got up immediately, eyeing up the hotel room with the scrutiny of the toughest drill sergeant. As he inspected a window particularly vulnerable to a flanking strike, a knock rang out from the door.

Casey looked down at himself – he was wearing a plain white t-shirt and a loose-fitting pair of shorts. It would have to do, he told himself, before approaching the door and squinting, with one eye over the peephole. It was Sarah.

Hastily, Casey pulled open the door several inches, stopped by the security chain which linked the door to the wall. Craning his neck around and through the gap, he did a visual sweep of the hallway. Satisfied there was no one in the vicinity, he unlatched the chain and allowed Sarah just enough time to enter before slamming the door shut.

Casey observed her with great mistrust – their 'time to acquaint' the other night had been little more than forced small talk and pointless discussions about a plan of action regarding the diamond. It had also been stifled by the fact that she had been romantically engaged with the man he'd killed just weeks before, which made the overnight flight to California even more awkward. No. She was too...emotional for his liking.

"Casey," Sarah started, "I just spoke with the CIA Director. They just received intel that Peyman plans to move the diamond within the next 72 hours. If we make a move, we make it now."

Casey nodded, taking his Glock from the sideboard and chambering a round.

"When do we meet up with Carina?" he inquired, inspecting the gun's magazine.

"In ten minutes. She'll be waiting by the hotel bar," Sarah explained, before noticing Casey's lack of attire, "you _might_ want to get changed before then."

* * *

Carina was indeed waiting at the bar, dressed in relatively little. Just like Casey remembered her, in fact. She saw Casey and Sarah approach, and a grin spread across her near-perfect face, her red-brown hair flaying slightly in the breeze.

"Sarah," she acknowledged, "I didn't know you were bringing _Casey_ to the party."

Casey discreetly tapped Sarah's shoulder, and she immediately slowed, allowing Casey to whisper in her ear.

"_Does she know?_"

"_About what?" _Sarah whispered back.

"_The Intersect!" _Casey hissed.

"_No." _Sarah returned.

Casey smiled coldly at Carina and the two sat down beside her.

"So what's the plan?" Carina pressed.

"Ah...we were hoping to go over it together." Sarah replied.

"Really? I thought you'd have this all figured out, Walker."

"Well he is hosting a party at his estate today. I suggest we blend in, and slip away to extract the diamond before escaping." Sarah retorted.

Casey grunted, clearly humoured. _If only it were that simple_, he thought.

* * *

**_A/N: _**_Thank you for reading! I will have the next chapter up soon, I promise. Please, feel free to review, critical or in praise, everything really inspires me to write more proficiently in the future!_


	3. Diamond Heist

**_A/N: _**_In quick succession, I give you Chapter Three! This is the first proper action chapter, and I hope I've succeeded in making it exhilirating. A special thank you to everyone who has reviewed, and who continue to review, Chapters 1 and 2, your comments help me greatly! I'm writing a few chapters ahead of this, and I've taken many people's opinions into account for the storyline's future. Again, any story or plot ideas would be much appreciated, also general C&C, tell me what you think of the story!_

_**DISCLAIMER:** I still do not own NBC's _Chuck _or anything else featured in this fan fic, and I wrote it purely for the entertainment of myself and any potential readers._

* * *

**Chapter Three: Diamond Heist**

**March 2005**

**Johannesburg**

**South Africa**

**3:54 pm**

Sarah backed up to the dry stone wall alongside Bryce, her gun in her hands. The wall was crumbled and cracked, probably from age. She could hear shouting coming from within the compound, and the sun basked the pair in a golden hue.

They had been tracking the drugs cartel for weeks now, and, with the help of satellite imagery, had finally pinpointed their base of operations in downtown Johannesburg. Dust from the ground hung suspended in the air in musky clouds, and as Sarah inhaled a particularly nasty amount, she couldn't help but cough. _Loudly_.

"_Intruders!_" a South African voice cried.

The silence which had previously maintained a firm hold over the area shattered like a mirror, and gunfire sprayed the walls around Bryce and Sarah with lethal projectiles. Stone chipped away like butter, and they knew they had to move; now.

Bryce signalled silently to Sarah, and leaped out into the open, his SIG Sauer P220 recoiling slightly with every flick of the trigger. Hastily, he ran and slid behind a pair of wooden crates as his previous position was assaulted by every form of ammunition imaginable.

Sarah's blood pumped enraged in her veins, as she too left the cover of the wall, chambering a round into her pistol as she did so. With near super-human reflexes, she pulled the trigger on three guards, all of whom fell in turn, their previously animated bodies now entirely at the will of her bullets. More shouting came from further away – they didn't have long before reinforcements arrived.

With a running slide, she backed up next to Bryce behind the crates, her heart desperately attempting to free itself from the confines of her chest. Bryce peered over the top of the crates, his gun hunting for any potential targets. _They were safe. For now._

"I make that three-one to you, Sarah." he smiled through laboured breath.

Despite the situation, Sarah couldn't help but smirk.

"I reckon it was more like four-one." she panted.

Bryce grinned, "You're good, Agent Walker, but you aren't _that_ good."

* * *

**2007**

**Peyman Alahi's Estate**

**Malibu, California**

**1:36 pm**

Bryce's words ran through Sarah's head as the she, Casey and Carina were confronted with the diamond. The ladies had 'dressed to impress', and wore tight black dresses which left little to the imagination. Casey, on the other hand, had gone for the rich businessman look, wearing a black suit and red tie which sat nonchalantly on his neckline.

Casey scanned the room with keen eyes – they'd had no trouble avoiding the armed guards around the perimeter, but this was something different. The room was relatively small, but amassed with sculptures and priceless artwork. The walls were bright blue, and in the centre was a slender pedestal, on which the diamond was mounted.

"That is some rock." Casey explained, observing the diamond with more than just intrigue.

"We need to move quickly. Let's take the diamond and go." Carina exclaimed, reaching a hand out for the stone.

"_Wait,_" Casey instructed, grabbing Carina's hand, "there's something more to this."

Casey scrutinized the pedestal closely, until his sight blurred and his eyes filled with data – a video feed of the pedestal being activated; electricity arcs; a DANGER HIGH VOLTAGE sign...His eyes fluttered, and he shuddered slightly.

Sarah noticed Casey's flash.

"I've seen these before," Casey lied, "touch sensitive pedestals. You try and grab the diamond, not only does the alarm go off, but—"

"—But what?" Carina interrupted.

"—But, the pedestal is channelled with 20,000 volts of electricity. You touch it, you die." he finished.

Carina considered this for a moment, then looked back up at Casey, her blue eyes twinkling.

"And what would you suggest we do?" she asked.

Casey motioned towards the fire extinguisher in the corner of the room, and Carina smiled. He pulled the slide back to check his pistol – his round was still chambered – and flicked off the safety.

It was only then he really began to notice Carina – her dress had ridden up slightly, revealing her upper thighs. Casey uttered a grunt of approval.

Sarah seemed to notice Casey's interest, and a smirk appeared on her lips.

"Eyes up, Casey. We wouldn't want another Prague, would we?"

A light film of sweat appearing on his brow. _How did she know about Prague?_

Sarah seemed to read his mind.

"I read your file." she mused.

Casey scorned, and would have replied had Alahi not appeared at the doorway with several armed guards. His face creased into a frustrated frown.

"Put the gun down. I wouldn't want anyone to die here today." Alahi ordered.

Carina seemed mildly amused. Casey did as he was instructed, and placed his pistol on the ground, kicking it towards Alahi.

"Take them to the van." Alahi commanded, and the guards poured into the room, cuffing Sarah, Carina and Casey roughly and nudging them towards the door.

Casey glanced over at Sarah and twitched his head forward slightly. Sarah nodded, and Casey immediately elbowed the guard behind him in the stomach with as much force as he could muster. He keeled over in pain, and Carina and Sarah quickly dispatched the other men. Alahi dived for the gun Casey had kicked towards him, but his face was met with a sharp kick from Sarah's heel, and he fell backwards, instantly knocked out.

The Major analysed the situation – all three of them were still cuffed – one of them had to get free to free the other two.

"We have to get out of these handcuffs." Sarah stated the obvious.

"Easier said than done. One of us is going to have to break their thumbs." Casey replied.

He stared innocently at the two women, who eyed him expectantly. He grunted and rolled his eyes.

"If I apply torsional pressure right..._here_..." he muttered, and a sound resembling the cracking of a whip filled the air for a moment.

Sarah winced, but after a quick struggle Casey was free, his thumbs contorted out of shape but luckily still attached.

"The things I do for my country..." Casey muttered, using his good fingers to pad down the guards bodies for the keys.

When he had located the keys in one of the guard's pockets, he dug them out and unlocked Sarah and Carina's cuffs.

"We don't have long before these stooges wake up." Casey made clear, grabbing his gun from beside Alahi's body.

Carina said nothing, instead grabbing the fire extinguisher from the wall and spraying the diamond with the milky smoke. Electricity shot up the pedestal like lightning, and a high-pitched alarm pierced the silence, whilst the diamond fell from atop the pedestal. Casey caught it cleanly in one hand, flinching when it landed on his thumb.

With the diamond in their possession, the team raced out of the doorway just as the security shutters were closing. They might have closed entirely, had Alahi's unconscious body not been blocking the doorway. Sprinting down the corridor, the various paintings which lined the walls became smudges which dashed past quickly. They burst outside onto the poolside, adrenalin fuelling every movement, and Casey aimed his gun like he had done a thousand times before, quickly terminating several guards approaching their position.

Crowds by the poolside turned and ran, with high-pitched, girlish screams amalgamating with the security alarm to form an almost unbearable chorus. Casey seemed not to notice, his mind fixated on the mission at hand. When the trio reached the driveway of the estate, he eyed up his choices – _limousine, Ferrari, or Hummer?_

"Hummer," he smirked, yanking the door open with his good fingers and stepping into the driver's seat. The diamond sat heavy but reassuringly in his pocket, and he checked the ignition for keys.

No dice. He pulled down the sun visor with some aggression, and the keys dangled from it like a gift from heaven. Snatching them, Casey forced him in the ignition just as Sarah and Carina piled into the back, and the Hummer snarled into life. Jerking the car into gear and smashing his foot down hard on the accelerator, the Hummer set off with much wheel spin, powering out of the drive and onto the tarmac.

A quick glance in the rear view mirror alerted Casey to the tail he had picked up as he speeded down the road, trees, bushes and lampposts whizzing past. A SUV was hot on their heels, its hoarse growl almost in competition with the Hummer's.

"We've got a tail." he stated, confidently gripping the steering wheel. He always relished a challenge.

"Sarah pulled her gun from her waist and slid the window down, before sticking her arm out and firing haphazardly in the SUV's general direction. Casey eyed up the rear mirror again, before swerving sharply onto the dirt track which led to the beach, making sure that his thumbs avoided contact with the wheel. The SUV swerved slightly at the gunfire, and a few shots ricocheted off the grille as Sarah continued her onslaught.

"Get to the beach," Carina instructed, "we'll finish them off there."

The Major nodded, before hitting the clutch and changing up a gear, prompting a renewed assault on the ears from the Hummer's 6.2-litre V8 engine. The dirt track thinned slightly and became more uneven as they approached the beach, whilst Sarah leaned out of the window once more, firing off her last few rounds at the SUV. She got lucky.

A single bullet pierced the windscreen and killed the driver instantly, sending the tail swerving out of control. Hitting a mud embankment, the car soared several metres into the air, before flipping over and crashing into a tree with a loud _CRUNCH_. Sarah cringed at first, but when Casey's face in the rear view mirror carried the closest thing to shock he could muster, she smirked.

In a flash, the Hummer pelted off the dirt track and onto the beach, before Casey pulled sharply on the handbrake, sending the car into a controlled slide before it came to a halt. Feeling his pocket for the diamond, he felt the hard stone and instantly relaxed.

"I'm impressed," Carina exclaimed, "I didn't think you had it in you, Johnny."

"Hmph." Casey grunted, before swinging the door open and stepping out of the car.

* * *

**Bar**

**Richmond Hotel Complex**

**Malibu, California**

**9:47 pm**

"Scotch, please," Casey instructed the bartender, "on the rocks."

Nodding, the bartender reached for the bottle of Scotch and a glass filled with ice, before pouring a generous amount of the amber-coloured fluid. Casey glanced behind him and saw Sarah approaching, before sighing and settling down to his drink.

"Casey?" Sarah questioned, seating herself at the bar beside him, and ogling the bandages wrapped around his thumbs.

"Agent Walker." he declared, before taking the glass and pouring the whisky down his throat.

"I'm sorry that...that I brought up Prague." Sarah initiated.

"Hmph. If it's in my file, it's not exactly a secret, is it?" he replied coldly, before adding, "By the way, nice job in Pakistan."

Sarah raised any eyebrow.

"How do you know about Pakistan?"

"I read _your_ file," Casey returned, before turning back to the barkeep, "hit me again."

* * *

_****__A/N: __A special thank you to my reader, for sticking with me so far. I'm writing several chapters ahead of this chapter right now, so I'll give you a preview of the next chapter, entitled **'Second Time's a Charm'**:_

_._

_"How are your thumbs doing?" Carina teased, gazing at the bandages wrapped around his thumbs._

_A snarl from Casey indicated that he didn't want to talk about it._

_._

_The flash ended, and the Major shook his head profusely to try and still the headache raging in his head. Only this time, it didn't work. Every inch of his head felt like it was just waiting to detonate, and he struggled to breathe through the intense pain._

_.  
_

_"Sarah, get down!" Casey ordered, flinging himself across the corridor and scattering bullets downrange._

_._

___****__A/N: _I hope that's enough to wet your appetite! I will most likely have the next chapter up for you all tomorrow. :-)


	4. Second Time's A Charm

_**A/N: **Finally, I've gotten round to putting up the next chapter. I know, I know, it's been well overdue, but I've been busy with exams and things, and considering the next few weeks are filled with my favourite passtime (sitting in an exam hall in silence for a couple hours each time), I don't think realistically I'll have another chapter up for a while._

_Just a heads up to any would-be beta readers, I would dearly love to have someone to look over the coming chapters and remove some of the detritus I sometimes write! So if you are interested, please PM me :-)_

_Big thanks to **stormwolf** for finally making me get off my ass and upload this, I hope you all enjoy! Also, I'd just like to say, in response to some of the criticism I'm getting about the realism of some aspects of this fanfic, please remember this is AU. I'm trying to keep it as plausible as possible, but believe me, if I were to go for the totally realistic approach, where would be the fun? Also, read the author note at the bottom for a more in depth explanation!_

_Without further ado, here y'all go:_

_**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own NBC's _Chuck_ (unfortunately), or anything else in this fanfic - I wrote it entirely for entertainment purposes!_

* * *

**Second Time's a Charm**

**The Next Day**

**Richmond Hotel Complex**

**Malibu, California**

**8:23 am**

Casey packed silently and methodically, taking each item in turn and placing it neatly inside of his suitcase. As he reached for a well-folded t-shirt, the television screen flickered on, and General Beckman stared out at him, as emotionless as usual.

"Major Casey," Beckman began, "I hope you aren't packing up just yet."

"Why?"

"We have a...complication. We have received intel that the diamond you stole is an Afghani war diamond that Peyman Alahi was holding for one of his associates. If he has the diamond, it appears his associates will attempt to sell it for surface-to-air missiles."

"Hmph," Casey grunted, "we _still _have the diamond though."

"That's the complication. Our extraction team was intercepted by Alahi's men en-route late last night and we believe he has kidnapped them and retrieved the diamond."

"So Alahi got his diamond back, huh? Do you want us to move in, help with the rescue operation?"

"That is exactly what I _don't_ want you to do, Major. We have received a tip off that Alahi is holding the extraction team and the diamond at two different locations – we have tracked the team to a location in downtown Los Angeles, which means the diamond must still be in Alahi's estate."

"So we retrieve the diamond?"

"Yes. We have a Special Forces team on standby to raid the location in Los Angeles, which will distract Alahi and draw away his forces, at which point you will move in and recover the diamond whilst it is at its most vulnerable."

"I assume Walker will be accompanying me on this mission?" Casey enquired.

"Agent Walker _and_ Agent Miller will assist you in the operation, Major."

Casey let out a growl of disapproval.

"Whatever your feelings for Agent Miller are, you cannot deny her outstanding record with the DEA. Her help will be invaluable to the success of the mission."

At that moment, their conversation was interrupted by a harsh drill on the door. Casey squinted through the peephole, until the distorted faces of Sarah and Carina became visible. Reluctantly, Casey swung the door open and allowed them entry.

"How are your thumbs doing?" Carina teased, gazing at the bandages wrapped around his thumbs.

A snarl from Casey indicated that he didn't want to talk about it.

"The NSA have set up a force to assault the compound where the extraction team are being held. Whilst they deal with most of Alahi's forces, we'll move in on his estate and get the diamond back. Understood?"

"How do we know what security will be like at Peyman's estate?" Sarah asked, "After all, he won't want to make the same mistake twice."

"We have access to a NASA satellite," Casey explained, "we'll have up-to-date information on the number of guards patrolling the estate, and a detailed floor plan of the estate itself."

"Well then, I will leave you to do your jobs," the General explained, before adding "Agent Walker, Agent Miller, Major Casey."

Beckman logged off, and the flat screen reverted to its original state.

"Right," Casey exclaimed, pulling the orderly piles of clothes out of his suitcase, "it looks like we aren't leaving just yet after all."

* * *

**Peyman Alahi's Estate**

**Malibu, California**

**10:52 pm**

"_Ssh!_" Sarah hissed, as Carina's heels clacked loudly on the edge of the driveway.

The team had done as instructed and waited for the Special Forces unit to begin raiding the Los Angeles location. From their vantage point in the bushes near the estate, they could see swarms of Alahi's men leaving in cars to defend the position, giving them a perfect opportunity to strike at the diamond. All three were clad in black, and in the faint moonlight they could only just pick out each other's silhouettes.

Two more goons left the building, guns clenched rather obviously in their hands. Whispering something to the other, one of them got into a SUV and fired up the engine, before the other got in the back of the car and the pair backed aggressively out of the driveway. As the sound of the engine faded into the ether, Casey murmured quietly to indicate that the team should move up.

Quickly, and without so much as a loud breath, Carina, Sarah and Casey stealthed around the perimeter of the building, keeping a close eye out for any guards.

"I see four security cameras by the poolside." Carina whispered.

Nodding, the Major pulled a handheld computer from his pocket and tapped frantically at the touch screen. Locating the cameras, Casey set the computer to send out a scramble signal, which interfered with the CCTV footage and rendered the cameras almost useless. Stuffing it away in his pocket, he grabbed his SIG Sauer P229 from its holster around his waist and screwed on the suppressor attachment.

With the security cameras successfully disabled, the team hustled around the poolside and up to the back door of the estate, which is when Casey flashed. An AK47 being fired; footage of a steel door with touch sensitive technology; schematics of an alarm system; the AK47 again.

The flash ended, and the Major shook his head profusely to try and still the raging headache. Only this time, it didn't work. Every inch of his head felt like it was just waiting to detonate, and he struggled to breathe through the intense pain.

"Casey," Sarah quizzed, "is something wrong?"

Casey didn't reply, instead screwing up his face into a plethora of creases and gritting his teeth as the throbbing sensation worked its way to the very core of his brain. Dropping his gun and squeezing his hands into angry fists, he sat it out, refusing to allow the agony to get the better of him.

"Casey?"

Shaking his head one final time, the pain began to fade, leaving him breathless, but alive. Carina wasn't paying much attention – she was too busy watching for any guards approaching their position, but Casey saw genuine concern in Sarah's face.

"Come on Walker, what do I look like? An amateur?" Casey said, reclaiming his gun from the floor and edging closer to the door.

"It's touch sensitive," he explained, "there's no way we can get through here."

"I bet the windows not..." Sarah replied.

Casey looked around. Accompanying the door was a small window which sat relatively low down on the wall.

"You break that window, and every guard on the premises is after us." he warned.

"That's why we don't break it." Sarah asserted, pulling a knife from her thigh.

With skill unmatched by most, she used the razor-sharp knife to cut around the rubber sealers holding the window on. After just a few minutes of work, and anxious sweeps of their position from Casey, the window collapsed into Sarah's waiting hands without so much as a crack.

Casey had to admit he was impressed, and grunted as if to confirm this. Sarah smiled, and manipulated her slender figure to fit through the window. The Major had slightly more trouble accommodating his large build in the small window frame, but he eventually managed to work his way through, before Carina followed behind.

A corridor of artwork looked very different at night, it seemed. The paintings lining the walls were lost to the inky blackness, and only the defiant glow of a few overhead lamps revealed anything at all.

At the junction of the corridors, the team took a left, and were soon confronted with the same room they'd ransacked the day before. Except for one thing. It was empty.

Casey's eyes widened, and his breathing became unsteady.

"_Where's the diamond?_" Carina hissed, carrying a similar expression.

"Looking for this?" a familiar voice called down the corridor.

Each team member twisted in turn, and were confronted with Alahi and an entire squad of his men, each holding an M16 assault rifle. Alahi himself had the diamond in one hand, and a hefty gold-plated Desert Eagle in the other.

"Kill them." Alahi ordered, before his team began to shower the team with a relentless stream of bullets.

Diving for cover, Casey ripped the suppressor off his P229, squeezing the trigger with his iron sights firmly lined up with one of the men. The body fell limply to the ground, and Casey glanced to his right to see Carina and Sarah pinned down by another goon's M16.

Fire zipped by just centimetres above his own head, and he had to squat down to avoid the wrath of yet another torrent of fully automatic fire. Silence hit the corridor like a tonne of bricks for just a few moments, as Alahi's men reloaded. Bringing his gun around on another guard, Casey felled him with ease, his corpse joining the other on the ground.

Sarah simultaneously rolled sideways out of cover, her Smith & Wesson throwing a lethal barrage of bullets down the corridor. Two more guards down, but her magazine was empty. She dropped it uselessly to the ground, and felt for another on her waist to replace it. A heavy knot appeared in her throat and the room suddenly felt a whole lot hotter. She was out of ammo.

"Sarah, get down!" Casey ordered, flinging himself across the corridor and scattering bullets downrange.

His body made contact with hers, throwing her out of the line of fire just as a guard clipped another magazine into his M16 and restarted his assault on the team. Shots rushed past, and one ripped through Casey's leg which lay exposed in the open. He muffled his cries of pain, and instead focused on laying down covering fire for Sarah, until she could get to safety.

"Casey," Carina exhaled, "I'll draw their fire by attempting to flank them. You move up and we'll attack them from two fronts."

The Major nodded, throwing another magazine into his gun and chambering a round, before Carina set off down the next corridor, rounding the corner and beginning her assault on Alahi's men from the side. This provided enough of a distraction for them that Casey was able to move up.

He glanced quickly at Sarah, and, satisfied she was in no imminent danger, he limped down the corridor, his gun picking targets almost automatically and his finger responding with a deadly flick of the trigger. Another two guards were cut down by a combination of Casey and Carina's fire, leaving a trail of assault rifles banded across the floor.

Casey evaluated his position – _Alahi's_ _men were all but defeated, but where was Alahi?_ He claimed enough time to check on his leg – the bullet had left an ugly hole, but it had torn through relatively cleanly. Blood spurted from the wound, and Casey couldn't help but feel his life draining away with every red splotch which dispersed across the floor.

A scream from the other end of the corridor was enough to shake him from these thoughts, and he wheeled around to see Alahi using Sarah as a human shield, his gold-plated pistol forced against her head.

"Leave," Alahi instructed, backing away, "and you might get the girl back."

Casey sneered, and watched gleefully as Carina rushed from behind at Alahi, a roundhouse knocking him from his feet, whilst Casey simultaneously fired at the man. The diamond flew from Alahi's hand along with the gun, and Casey's bullet tore through the rock, shattering it into several hundred pieces. Sarah, freed from Alahi's grasp, finished him off with a brutal kick to the chest.

The Major's pulsing veins stuck out sharp from his skin, to the point where they threatened to detach from him altogether. He'd destroyed the diamond, but the General wanted it in one piece. He considered that a partial mission success, and from the look on Sarah's face, she was just happy to be alive.

"Casey," she called, rushing over to him, "you're wounded."

"It's fine." he growled, pushing her away.

Sarah seemed unconvinced, but nevertheless bit her lip and accepted his diagnosis.

Hobbling over to the unconscious Alahi, the fragments of the diamond caught Casey's eye, and his vision phased out to be replaced by reams of new information. A satellite image of a Taliban compound; an execution; the diamond; a missile exploding; the compound again.

His brain was booted back into reality, but his head was enveloped in unbearable agony. It felt as if someone had brought a hammer to his head – repeatedly, and every fibre of his brain felt like it had been torn apart. He collapsed to the ground, doing his best to stifle his scream. With sweaty palms, he clutched his head, willing the torment to cease, but it continued relentlessly.

Hazing in and out of focus, his vision was severely hampered by the white tunnel which encroached on its edges. With every new level of pain, the tunnel thinned, until all put a tiny pinprick of actuality was clouded by the whiteness.

Suddenly, in a flash, the tunnel retreated, and the pain lessened, the cold, dark corridor flooding back. Sarah was leaning over him, clearly concerned.

"Casey? Are you alright? Is it your leg?"

Casey shook his head. He wasn't one to talk much, but he had to tell someone about what was happening.

"I think the...the Intersect is...it's damaging my brain." he breathed, still recovering.

"The Intersect?" Carina questioned, walking over, "Now what might that be?"

* * *

_**A/N: **I hope you enjoyed that, I must say, writing the action scene was pretty entertaining. Now many of you requested some more original content - believe me, recycling canon material with Casey's spin on it is NOT where I want this fic to go. Believe me, it's coming, along with a possible gamechanger. After much thought, I threw most of the next chapter out of the window, in favour of something more original, and (hopefully) more entertaining. That said, I'm only about 30% done with the chapter so unfortunately I won't have it up for a while!_

_And in response to all you Casey/Sarah relationship "is it/isn't it?" readers, you'll just have to see, won't you! Believe me, I have a few tricks up my sleeve to liven this story up coming soon!_

_Finally, I want to thank you, the reader, with a glimpse of the start of the next chapter, entitled **First Contact**:_

_._

_"A man in a dark trench coat and a hat entered the room, and stopped for a moment, as if unsure of something, before pulling the chair out and sitting at the desk. Pulling open the laptop, he typed just two words: __John Casey_, and hit the enter key."

.

___**A/N: **_Who could that be, I wonder? Please review, folks!


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